Alone in the Hospital Wing
by Cassie83
Summary: A missing moment from The Philosopher’s Stone - Neville lies in the hospital wing and contemplates life after falling off his broom.


Alone in the Hospital Wing.

Neville Longbottom – Missing Moment

Neville woke up in unfamiliar surroundings. He felt stiff and sore and his wrist was throbbing painfully although it appeared to no longer be broken. Where was he, he wondered while trying to pull himself up to a sitting position. He remembered now: stupid, clumsy Neville Longbottom had done it again.

He recalled going out to the grounds with the other Gryffindors, all chattering excitedly about the flying lesson ahead. He had been terrified, having never been on a broomstick before he knew this was going to be difficult – he would rather just stay on the ground and watch everybody else get on with it.

The broomstick seemed to sense his fear. As instructed, he put his right hand over the broom and said "Up". Nothing happened. Most of the others seemed to get some response; Harry's broom had jumped straight into his hand. He tried again, and the broom sort of twitched and rolled over. Everyone else was ready to go now, just waiting for him; he took a deep breath, gritted his teeth and said in the strongest, clearest voice he could manage "Up!". The broom rose up slowly, almost hesitatingly into his hand and Neville exhaled. Stage one completed.

Madam Hooch, the flying teacher, then showed them how to hold their brooms and how to mount them without sliding off the end. She walked up and down the rows of students correcting their grip before telling them how to take off. Neville was only half listening to her instructions; he was gripping his broom so tightly his knuckles had turned white. What was that she had said? Kick off from the ground and rise up? Okay, he thought, let's get it over with before I'm the only one left…

He pushed off hard from the ground before the whistle even blew and just seemed to keep going up. Madam Hooch was shouting at him to come down but he seemed to have no control over the broom. Neville felt sick and the ground seemed to be getting further and further away. He panicked; his fellow students on the ground looked so small from here. What did he do to stop? What had Madam Hooch said? He gasped and leaned down and then it happened. He lost his balance and fell to the ground with a nasty crack in his arm. Then he burst into tears as he was led to the hospital wing.

As he lay in his bed in the hospital wing he felt his face burning with shame. Why, he wondered, did it always happen to him? He always felt so big and awkward compared to his fellow classmates, constantly tripping over his feet and getting in everybody's way. He wasn't as clever as Hermione, as athletic as Harry or even as personable and friendly as Ron or Seamus. He never felt confident, never wanted to speak up in class and wasn't even sure why he was in Gryffindor.

Oh no, he thought, if his Grandmother found out about this he would be in for another lecture about how he wasn't upholding the family honour and making his parents proud. His parents, Frank and Alice Longbottom, what on earth would they think about this. They'd probably be ashamed their son had made a fool of himself again.

Voices at the other end of the hospital wing brought Neville out of his reverie. Someone was protesting to Madam Pomfrey to be allowed in to see him. Neville wiped the tears from his cheeks and saw Dean come through the door towards his bed, holding the Rembembrall out towards him. Neville turned to Dean and smiled weakly. "Thanks, I must have dropped it when I fell" he mumbled.

"That's alright, you may want to keep it out of Malfoy's sight for a while though, he seemed rather taken with it" replied Dean with a grin and went on to explain what had happened and how Harry had asked him to return the Remembrall.

"It's a great piece of kit – sometimes I think I could do with one myself" said Madam Pomfrey who had just joined them round the bed. "Anyway Mr. Thomas, I think you should be returning to your dormitory, you've had your five minutes".

"Bye then Neville" he said, "Oh, if you are around laterSeamus and I could do with a hand on the herbology homework, we keep getting all the Latin plant names messed up".

On hearing this Neville stared at the door Dean had passed through. Help? Dean and Seamus? With herbology? Well that he could do. Herbology was by far and away his best subject; it soothed him and made him feel confident, just quietly potting plants and learning about their magical properties.

"You know," said Madam Pomfrey, taking him by surprise, "your mother was in here a few times in her first year – terrible on a broomstick, she was. Kept sliding off as soon as her feet left the ground." She smiled at him and turned back towards her office leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Neville suddenly felt a bit better, he no longer wanted to sit in the hospital wing feeling sorry for himself. He took a deep breath and rolled onto his side, he thought about what his visitors had said. My mother was bad at flying. Dean and Seamus want my help with herbology. I've got my remembrall back.

As he left the hospital wing later that evening, under strict instructions from Madam Pomfrey not to do any more flying for a while, and walked slowly towards Gryffindor tower he thought about what he could do. Okay he couldn't fly or make a potion, but he could re-pot a mandrake and that wasn't even on this year's curriculum. Yes, he thought, things weren't all that bad and he had another seven years to make his parents proud of him, maybe it would all just come in time.

He reached the portrait of the fat lady and suddenly remembered what it was he had forgotten that morning which had made the remberall glow red in the first place: the password. He smiled, now what on earth was it…

_This is my first ever attempt at fan fiction so please be kind enough to leave me a review and let me know how I've done. Thanks, love Cass x._


End file.
